The lonely bard - Caleb Widogast x Reader

The beginning

You heard the tales, you knew the names, ever since the carnival down south in Trostenwald was torn apart folks around here seem to be shaken up, those from that area scatter about now, moving on from the tales of that horrific night.

You sit in the tavern where you now stay, does it matter which one? All the same, all run by equally enthusiastic, quirky individuals. Your index finger loops around the rim of your glass, just an old fashioned, the perfect blend of whisky garnished with a citrus element, fancy for these parts. You, a low level elven bard enjoy these drinks frequently, it passes time. You left your lyre next to your feet, engraved with symbols, origins unknown, this was a family heirloom.  You're not the type to fight, the worst you've done is hit someone with your instrument for heckling your performance... definitely not the best day of work, somehow acts of aggression reduced tips, who knew?

Roars of laughter erupt, slamming the tavern door  open, disturbing your thoughts. Your brows furrow as your head whips around, your gaze meets the intruders. It was them, disrupters of peace, the Mighty Nein.  They look different to what you imagine. But what exactly would you of expected? The tales depict them as bold, strong, brave... somehow it looks as if the little cheerful tiefling was the strongest of them all.
Your stare follows the group, watching as they walk by, studying their looks. Your eyes fall to a scruffy man, close to a little goblin. They almost are complete contrasts, this amuses you causing a slight chuckle as you watch them slam down their ale on the table, counting their fortunes, screeching their successes. Their enthusiastic yet chaotic manner pushed out other patrons, disturbing their sense of peace and equilibrium understandably... they weren't subtle.

At least someone's had a good night you thought. Comparatively you'd look pathetic if you did the same, barely a coin to your name. You stare down at your glass intrigued yet respectful, not wanting to intrude their celebrations.

You feel a small finger prodding you, tapping the top of your head, a hand lifts your face up to look at them. It was the blue tiefling, smiling widely introducing herself.
"Well, hello there! I am Jester, you're the only other patron in this lonely tavern, won't you join us?"
You smile back, hesitantly nodding lightly as you rise from your seat, slowly dragged into the circle of roars, she pushes you into them.
"Introduce yourself, guys look I made a new friend!"
Her enthusiasm doesn't fail to impress you, how could she keep up this persona so effortlessly? Social interaction let alone introductions find themselves to be draining to most. The goblin from before encourages you to speak, you didn't know any goblins but she seemed fine. Predujuce wasn't a thing you encouraged, you were at least 200 years old, lived a longer life than most, the least you could do is offer acceptance.
"Ah well, I'm y/n, there's nothing much about me other than I play my lyre frequently around these parts"
You try to seem outgoing, greeting those around you enthusiastically. You haven't spoken to people much since you started travelling, this became a nice change of pace. You learn names, attempt to memorise faces, soon enough you learn they plan to stay here, the same tavern. You owned the spare room they desperately needed, of course you did.
You hear the begging of Jester and Beauregard towards the man you now identify as Fjord, there were three rooms, they definitely needed the extra beds from your room, sharing and taking you along was their best option.
"Pretty please Fjord! Can we keep them! Please?"
They talk about you as if you're a puppy in need of a home, a stray... this wouldn't be far from the truth. Caleb made it clear you were a burden, unwilling to converse with you at the table, socially anxious to say the least. Fjord finally begrudgingly nods, against Caleb's wishes, giving his consent.

After a night of drunken laugher soon all of you go to the rooms, crowding in one before heading off for the night. The wizard known as Caleb turns to you, pointing at your instrument.
"So you play? Surely that can't be helpful to our missions, we barely know you, no offence y/n, I hardly understand how harmonies will help."
You chuckle, amused, you understand his presumptions, you even spotted him casting an alarm spell with a bell and piece of silver thread. Was that for you? Understandable you guessed. He didn't know you, you could've been the average criminal scum. However, his words mocked you, a bard has their place. You deceive him, attempting to portray yourself as unbothered.
"None taken, now if I play just don't try to fall in love alright?"
You send a smirk his way, irritating him slightly. Bards by nature are very charming and you enjoy being that way when you can be and your cockiness definitely kicks in when it come to your instrument, you were proficient, it's allowed. You pick up the lyre, resting the instrument on your lap as as one hand carefully plucks  the strings as the other grips the frame, illustrating the precision and skill you had with the instrument. Slowly as you continue to play you cast Sleep, affecting those around you apart from Fjord. As the song comes to an end you look up at him, raising a finger to lips as if not to disturb the others, they were so peaceful.  You both quietly laugh, leaving to your own rooms, at least when the morning comes you'd know you would've proved Caleb wrong.

(A/n I don't normally do more than one shots so my anxiety goes woooosh)